The Final Countdown
by Alexa Piper
Summary: My attempt at the final Phanniemay. I've never filled every prompt before but maybe this time? (Yes, I'm late, but this will be finished!) Currently Playing: Confined
1. Doorways

The past blurred across the screen. Timelines swirled together in a haze as green light flashed again, and again, and again.

Danny floated in front of the display, attention fixed on the images being shown. His legs were crossed as he sat on emptiness. An elbow rested on his knee, chin leaning into his cupped palm and he frowned at what was showing over and

over

and

o

v

e

r

again.

He'd asked Clockwork to turn off the sound soon after the scenes had started to play. It was bad enough to watch this happen on a seemingly endless loop - he didn't need to hear his own dying scream a thousand times as well.

His legs tingled with the static of pins and needles. "How many timelines are there?"

Clockwork tapped his staff against the floor and the image stilled at the exact moment that the portal's green flash filled the screen. "Millions."

Danny pressed his mouth closed and took a deep breath through his nose. The exhalation was shakier than he would have liked, but if Clockwork noticed his trembling lower lip then he didn't comment on it.

"I asked you to show me every possibility, but I keep seeing the same damned thing. Isn't there one where I never went into the portal?"

Clockwork sighed with the sound of a gentle chime. He waved his staff and a new silent picture took over the screen - one with a very human Danny climbing up the lab stairs with his two friends. Sam clutched her camera in her hands, Danny's white HAZMAT suit was carelessly draped over the back of a chair, and the portal was nothing more than a lifeless hole that burrowed into the wall.

The Danny watching in Clockwork's tower leaned closer with wide eyes. "Can you give me that?" he breathed.

"No, Daniel."

As he spoke, the Danny on the screen doubled over and grabbed his chest. He dropped to his knees, his friends shouting and his parents running down the stairs at the commotion. By the time they reached him he was already limp on the floor, eyes closed and breathing gone.

The screen went blank, and it took a moment for Danny to speak through the fingers that he had pressed over his mouth. "I don't understand."

"It was your time." The statement was simple, and the most direct explanation that Danny had ever received from him. "Death was ready for you, with or without the portal."

"So I'm screwed no matter what?" Tears tugged at his eyelids, cold when they should have been hot. "What was the point of the portal then?!"

Clockwork's cape rustled with his shrug. "It was a doorway. Every time you ignored the portal, you died. Every time you explored the portal, it opened a door to another life."

Danny shook his head and swatted at tears that had begun to trickle down his face. "This isn't a life," he choked. "Not like what everyone else has."

"When one door closes, another door opens," Clockwork reminded him. "Your parents created the doorway for you to survive. Be grateful, and make the most of your second chance."

"There isn't a single timeline where I don't die?"

Clockwork didn't answer, and the ghost child hid his face in his hands and wept.


	2. Secrets

When you spent time with Danny Fenton, you ended up in the strangest places.

Valerie's legs dangled and she leaned back against the trunk of the tree. He sat on the branch next to hers, close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other. Moonlight dappled their skin and cicadas hummed in the still night air.

It was nice up here. Sequestered away from the rest of the world Valerie got that fleeting feeling of _peace,_ that life was giddily beautiful and she could be anything she wanted. They had chatted before, about the movie they had just seen, about school, about their favourite foods and music and everything else they fancied, but now they were silent. It was a strange feeling to re-learn someone after you had drifted apart, but this was _Danny,_ and she was tired of her hunting habits driving away the people that she cared about.

Their hands hung in the open air between them, fingers knitted together as they breathed in sync.

He had been quiet for a while now. She knew he was waiting to tell her something, and the strength of his grip around her hand increased as the silence swelled between them. His anxiety didn't bother her - she had already figured out what he was going to say. She could have brought it up herself and saved him the stress, but she wanted him to trust her, to take the leap and hope that she would catch him.

Finally, he ducked his head. His hair fell forwards and cast his face into darkness. "Can I tell you something?" he whispered.

Valerie was unable to hold back a little laugh as she squeezed his hand. She had meant to stay quiet until her told her on his own, but his shoulder had started to tremble where it was pressed against hers and she just couldn't help herself. "What, you're finally gunna tell me that you're Phantom?"

His head snapped up like she had pulled him back by the hair. His eyes were wide, mouth working without sound as though he had forgotten how to speak. She didn't elaborate, simply lifting an eyebrow and giving him her best smug grin. Now she would wait for him to talk, to confess, to admit that she was right and then _maybe_ she would teasingly agree to stop shooting at him...

He searched her face for a long moment before giving a shaky laugh, releasing her hand to sweep his fingers through his hair, and his confession wiped the grin off her face. "I was actually gunna say I love you, but sure, let's go with that."


	3. Grave

Danny gasped and gripped the arms of his chair at the sensation that coursed through his body. For a tense moment his entire chest clenched, and he screwed his eyes shut, mouth working soundlessly as he fought against whatever had stopped his breathing. There was nothing to do but sit and wait. His heart beat frantically in his ears, like a hammer hitting against the fuzzy cotton that filled his brain more with every second, but just as his vision began to blur the paralysis was gone.

He sucked in sweeping breaths, great gales of inhalation that slammed into his lungs. Tears stung his eyes, and he hunched over in his seat, wheezing pathetically. It took longer than he would have liked for his vision to clear, and as he blinked back into focus tears dripped from his chin onto the paper on his desk. The latest sentences of his essay were spotted with drops, the ink blurring with the moisture.

That was the third time in an hour.

It wasn't a frigid rush like his ghost sense or ice powers, but more of a stinging squeeze that wrapped around his core and refused to let go. This time it had taken longer to stop as well, so long that he had almost passed out.

The terrible thought that his breathing might cease entirely nudged him into movement. Danny peeled his fingers from the arms of his chair − since when had his grip been strong enough to crack thick plastic? − and slowly stood on legs that felt like overcooked pasta.

He had to get some swirled through his mind of heart attacks and strokes, and he wondered if spectral cores could experience anything as nasty as that. Frostbite had _told_ him to drink more ectoplasm, and had even tried to help Danny to set up a lair. A real lair, behind a real floating door in the Ghost Zone. Danny had shrugged it off at the time but maybe he shouldn't have dismissed spectral wellness habits so easily.

His core was tender, and his diaphragm ached with every breath. Cold tendrils of intangibility seeped through his bones and he sank through the floor, passing into the kitchen and making sure that he was invisible before phasing into the lab. He had been trying to avoid the subterranean room whenever his parents were down there since you could never guess what they might be working on, but he needed to get some help. The only likely options were Vlad or Frostbite, and the former was out of the question. Danny wasn't _that _desperate yet.

The portal was open.

Danny frowned at the sight. His parents stood before its humming green vortex, their figures dark against the glow. Danny floated closer and peered over their shoulders in an attempt to see what they were doing.

His father clutched a large remote the size of a brick. "I just don't get it, Mads," he mumbled.

Danny's mother's mouth pinched in thought. Her goggles reflected green light in a flash as she tilted her head and inspected her clipboard. "It shouldn't be self-sustaining," she agreed. "Not after we activated the kill switch."

Danny hissed in a horrified breath, and both parents shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. He edged away from them a bit and struggled to fight down his panic.

"I'll try it again," Jack said.

He had to make it appear natural. Danny couldn't just turn visible here, he had to make it to the stairs, convince them that he had just walked down here, and break it to them gently. At least he was still in human form, so they wouldn't have to see the lights from his transformation yet.

He had to tell them the truth right now. No more secrets, no more lies. Not when the stakes were this high. They had to know that they couldn't turn it off − the portal was his grave, and if it died, so would he.

He was only halfway to the stairs when there came the sound of a rushing wind, and green light flickered into darkness.


	4. Wishes

He had been left alone again. If Tucker wasn't so tired, he might have been furious. Cold water seeped through the worn fabric of his sneakers as he accidentally stepped on the nature strip, and he corrected his path. The rain had mercifully stopped but his clothes were pasted to his skin and his nose had begun to feel thick with stuffiness.

Tyres whispered on the wet roads and headlights approached, illuminated him, and continued past. It was the first one he'd seen in several blocks.

He didn't want to blame Danny for leaving him. His friend had been bleeding again, a mixture of blood and ectoplasm running down his suit and dripping off the toes of his boots as he struggled to stay in the air. When Tucker finally managed to catch Skulker in the thermos, Danny wilted to the ground like a brittle Autumn leaf. Valerie had swooped down after him, dragging him onto her board and heading off in the direction of Fentonworks.

Leaving Tucker to walk.

He had almost followed them, but the weight in his bones and the ache in his head automatically turned him in another direction. It wasn't like he could actually do anything to help his friend anyway, with Jack's excellent sewing skills and Maddie's extensive training in first aid. Even Valerie could help with her transportation.

Tucker shoved freezing hands into his armpits, trying to draw warmth back into his fingers.

He'd always said that he didn't mind being on the ground. Back when it had been Sam instead of Valerie, they'd worked together as a team. He hadn't been the only one bound by gravity. But then, time had passed. People changed. They grew up, grew apart…

The week after Sam stopped sitting with them for lunch, Valerie had slid into the empty seat. Two days later she joined Phantom in the sky, and a fortnight after that there were no secrets left between them.

So Tucker now walked home alone.

The sharp angles of ectoguns in his bag pressed against his spine. He shifted the load with a roll of his shoulders and tapped his keycard against the access door of his apartment building. The elevator was out of order, which was more common than not with the amount of times ghost attacks downed power lines in the area, so he dragged himself up the stairs. Reaching his floor, Tucker sagged against the wall as he fit the key into the lock and jimmied it until the door to his home inched open.

The apartment was dark, and he crept through the living without turning on any lights. His parents had probably assumed that he was staying overnight at Danny's, and Tucker really didn't want another lecture on responsibility if they woke up because of him.

He reached his room without incident, making sure to close and lock the door before turning on his lamp. Carefully placing the backpack on the floor, Tucker peeled off his wet clothes and pulled on his warmest tracksuit pants and hoodie. He snagged a towel from the pile of laundry on the floor and rubbed it over his hair before tossing it across the end of his bed.

His backpack waited for him, and Tucker fished the thermos from its depths. He activated the ghost shield that he had built into his walls, and a slight sheen of green illuminated the space. He turned the dial on the side of the thermos with a controlled twist. There were a couple of ghosts in there tonight, and he really didn't want to face Skulker again so soon.

The dial ticked as it turned like the lock on a safe, and Tucker stopped when it clicked into position. The ectosignature was the right power level for what he wanted, and with a giddy rush of anticipation he thumbed the button for release.

Green smoke bubbled into the room, a vapour that quickly shifted into something much more solid. The ghost blinked at her sudden release and Tucker re-capped the thermos, tossing it onto the bed before turning to face his guest.

She floated in the middle of the room, face scrunching in confusion when she caught sight of him. "Why have you brought me here?" she demanded.

He was far too tired to play games. "If I free you from your obsession will you grant me something without any negative consequences?"

Her face smoothed into shock, the red sheen over her eyes dulling to a soft purple. "What?"

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "It must suck to be taken advantage of by everyone," he said. "I was wondering if you'd help me out if I helped you."

Red began to seep back into her gaze. "You're just another boy trying to take advantage of me," she snapped. Her aura flared, fingers curling into claws as she rose above him.

"No," Tucker responded, standing still as though the anger leaking from her didn't send a shudder through his body. "I wish that you were free from your ghostly curse, whether or not you decide to grant my other wish."

She went still. The red light that glowed from her skin began to fade, its harsh tint blending into pastel blue as a floral scent wafted into the room. The bands around her wrists, cuffs that he had once mistaken for bracelets, crumbled into fine shreds of ash that streamed off her skin and dusted the carpet.

Desiree blinked, looking at her hands as though she had just found the answer to the universe. "You freed me?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "I didn't like that you had to let people screw you over," he admitted, trying to ignore the bitter feeling in his chest.

She shook her head and the ornamental band in her hair caught the light. "I never hoped…"

Tucker shrugged again. "Danny's hurt, but Val'll probably come after you soon," he said. "You should probably get out of here."

She smiled and radiated such _joy_ that he smiled back. "Your wish," she said. "I can sense that you have a big one."

He shook his head. "Not if you don't want to grant it. I'm not gunna take advantage of you."

She floated closer and he could have reached out and touched her if he wanted to. "For the one who freed me," she whispered, "I'd give anything."

In that moment, a thousand half-imagined hopes and dreams swept through his mind. He knew what he wanted, but there were so many different ways to get it, and he'd still been trying to figure out how to word this. Should he make it complicated, with instructions to keep him safe from her whims? Should he carefully specify how he wanted everything to happen? Should he abandon this entirely and ask for a billion bucks instead?

Her hand was gentle as she cupped his face in her palm. Her voice felt like a Summer's breeze and filled his thoughts with light. "What do you desire?"

He stared into her soft eyes and decided to just go for it.

"Desiree... I wish I was a halfa."


	5. Second Gen or Childhood Memories

He didn't understand what the problem was.

She stood in the kitchen with her arms folded across her chest. "No."

"But you love it when I come," he reasoned, leaking as much self-pity as he could into his tone.

Her head jerked in a sharp shake. "I'm not five anymore," she retorted. "I don't need you to babysit me."

Danny curled his lip into the best pout he could muster. "But it's your first day!"

She rolled her eyes - when had she gotten that _attitude?_ \- and hoisted her backpack off the floor. "I can get to school by myself."

"Casper High's pretty far," he tried. "Won't you at least let my fly you there?"

"Not a chance," she snorted. "As far as anyone knows, I'm normal. Keep away from school and I can at least _pretend _that I'm cool long enough to make some friends."

Danny sent his wife a pleading glance where she sat at the table, but she just shrugged and took a sip of coffee. "She has a point," she said. "You always hated it whenever your dad burst into the school with guns blazing."

"Ha!" his daughter shouted. "Two against one! I'm walking to school, so stay at home."

Danny sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Do you want some lunch money?"

She held out her hand with a grin that reminded him far too much of her mother.

"Thanks, Dad! Love you!" she called, pocketing the money and practically skipping out of the kitchen. The front door thumped a moment later, and the house went still.

Danny put his wallet back in his pocket and looked at his watch.

"Don't even think about it," his wife warned.

He grinned at her, edges already fuzzy with the first touches of invisibility. "She won't even know I'm there."

Her eye roll matched their daughter's. "Leave her alone. There's ectofudge in the fridge that your mum dropped off last night."

Danny paused and flickered back into full visibility. "Maybe I do have time for a snack…" he conceded, and headed for the fridge.

She groaned and passed him her mug, gesturing for another cup of coffee. Danny complied, and filled a plate with fudge before joining her at the table.

"Maybe we should ghost-proof the school," he mused, biting into a square of fudge with a thoughtful expression. "I have a new invention that we could probably try…"

She groaned again and took a swig of her drink. "For goodness' sake, Danny, you're just as bad as your father."


	6. Compromise

Alive...

Dead...

Alive...

Dead...

Danny stood in front of the mirror, watching as his reflection changed.

Alive... Dark hollows gaped around his eyes. His face was gaunt, stricken with exhaustion.

Dead... The shadows were cleansed from his skin with the light of his transformation. His complexion became a little greener, but glowed with health and colour that hadn't been there a moment before.

Alive... The shadows were back, throwing his pale skin into sharp contrasting angles. The light in his eyes went dark.

Dead... He looked… more _alive._

A soft sigh whispered from behind him. "Do you see it now, Badger?"

The lights washed over him again and Danny peered into the soulless blue gaze of his own reflection. "Why are we like this?" he breathed.

The presence shifted, moving closer so that Vlad's reflection was clear as well. "A compromise," he offered, his breath stirring Danny's hair.

Dead... They both stood there, energy leaking from their skin in a glowing aura. Danny waited for him to continue.

"We aren't natural," Vlad ventured. "This is the universe's way of letting others know, if they can read the signs. Nature always has its laws."

Danny nodded, and sparks shifted in his shining white hair. "So long as people just think I'm tired."

Vlad placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well it's not likely that they'll see your gaunt appearance and realise it means that you're dead."

Danny shrugged. Alive... but appearing more like a corpse than Phantom ever would. "That's okay then."

It wasn't, but there was nothing they could do about it anyway.


	7. Solar or Universe

If he was going to be honest with himself, this was actually kind of _nice._

The galaxy unfurled around him like a flower opening, and as the Earth swung away in its continued orbit his soul stilled.

He should have been angry with Jack for leaving him here, but as Vlad watched the gentle arc of Earth and a red speck he guessed was Mars, the only thing he felt was peace. His thoughts were slow and he soaked in the emptiness as though space was his bathtub. Things simply fell away. Feuds, wealth, power — they drifted far from him as he lay back and watched the stars.

The Earth was almost out of sight behind the sun by the time he thought to check. Had he really been floating here for _months_ already? Vlad's core hummed softly at the weight of the planets that spun around him.

There was a gentle pull. Vlad had never intended to stay up here, but the glimmer of lights in the distance beckoned him. He wondered what beauty he would find if he turned away from the sun and lost himself in the Milky Way.

He'd never be able to find the Earth again.

Vlad looked down at the planet of his birth, and wondered why it was so difficult to leave. The things he had spent so long seeking meant nothing now.

He wondered what Daniel was doing. A spark stirred beneath his apathy, and Vlad knew that this was what was held him back. The boy was the only person like him in the known universe. Daniel may still seem normal now, but the ectoplasm in his body would eventually halt his ageing, and within a handful of decades he'd be just as out of place as Vlad had been.

He had to go back. Space could wait for a few more years.

The Earth was almost impossible to see in the sun's glare, and Vlad turned away once more. He'd go back for the boy soon enough, but a bright red speck in the distance provided an inviting detour — maybe if Vlad brought him a few rocks from Mars, Daniel would find it in his heart to forgive him.


	8. Sisters

Alicia was awake when the phone rang.

The thick silence of four in the morning tore apart, and she rolled over in the grass with a grunt. Even at its dimmest setting her phone was far too bright and she squinted at its screen. The green icon was blurry through her watering eyes and she had to swipe several times before it answered the call.

She tucked her phone against her ear and collapsed back onto the ground. "Hello?"

The caller's breathing shuddered and Maddie's unmistakable voice cut through the speakers. "Leash," she rasped, and dissolved into a fit of hiccupping sobs.

A tiny light arced across the sky and fizzed into darkness again. It was the third meteor in the past ten minutes, but she was too distracted now to appreciate its beauty. "What happened?"

"I-I… Th-they're… Leash, please…"

Alicia sat up and felt around for her torch. "What is it? Do you need me to come to Amity Park?" A broken yes managed to make its way through the heaving sobs, and she got to her feet and switched on her light. "Okay," she said. "I'll just ask the old man in the next farm over to watch things here, and I'll come to you." The farmhouse was just back over the hill, and Alicia began her steady climb. The distraction of looking for secure footing was enough to keep her grounded. "Maddie, listen to me. Are you at home?"

There was a particularly loud sniff. "No."

"Tell me where you are," Alicia insisted. "Don't you dare drive like that, I'll call you a taxi."

Maddie sniffed again, her sobs quieter but still punching staccato notes through her breathing. "I'm at the park."

"Are you hurt?" Alicia reached the hill's summit. Her home was dark, its familiar shape barely discernible in the moonless night.

"No," Maddie whispered again.

Her boots brushed through the grass with a pleasing sound. It was familiar. Safe. "Okay. I'll call the taxi for you, and I'll start driving now. I should be there at about six."

"It's bad," she choked.

Alicia sighed as the ground evened out beneath her. "I figured. What's wrong?"

"I-I… I think he's… D-Danny's…" her words toppled into a fresh bout of sobbing, but it was enough for Alicia to piece together.

The stars seemed to wink as she broke into a jog. "Okay," she managed as dark thoughts squeezed around her heart and blossomed to fill her lungs. "Okay, just keep it together. I'm coming now."

The sobbing at the other end was louder now, and held a brokenness that Alicia had never heard from her sister before. She didn't want to hang up, but she had to call that damned taxi!

"Maddie, just stay there, okay? Just sit down at a picnic table and don't move. As soon as I've rung the taxi I'll call you back."

Maddie's weeping poured through the speaker, and as Alicia pulled her keys out of her pocket and tore open the door of her truck, her soul was drenched with the feeling that everything was about to fall apart.


	9. World Building

This wasn't real.

Danny spooned cereal into his mouth. It was far sweeter than he remembered cornflakes being. The little wafers didn't go soggy either, no matter how slowly he ate. Always tasty, always perfect, and just how he liked it.

His mother walked into the kitchen and her face slid into an immaculate smile. She ruffled his hair, gloves smooth and familiar against his scalp, and Danny swatted her away with a laugh. He hoped it didn't seem forced.

Maddie busied herself at the coffee machine. Sunlight burst through the window and everything seemed too beautiful. "Are you flying to school today?" she asked.

He nodded and tried to figure out what was wrong. "I'll be late if I don't."

She hummed and drummed her fingers against the counter. "Did you get your homework done? The ghosts were pretty active last night."

He didn't remember doing his homework, but he didn't want a lecture right now either. "Most of it." He shrugged and twirled his spoon through the last few cornflakes that floated in the milk at the bottom of his bowl. They held their form and he used the back of the spoon to crush one against the side.

Yep, still as crisp and crunchy as ever.

There was the flicker of a frown around her eyes before the facade returned. "Well, I'm sure that your teachers will understand."

He grunted and ground another cornflake against the side of the bowl. His mother stood there, head tilted and expression lost in this strange nonchalance.

Danny wondered why her suit was so clean. It was never this clean. Her hair was too perfect as well and shone in the artificial light. It was strange... Hadn't she been down in the lab? Something unsettled flicked against his thoughts but he couldn't pin it down long enough to figure out what was going on.

The coffee machine hummed and he frowned. Colours were too vibrant, shadows too deep... This was wrong… He didn't know why, but it just _was._

"Hey, Mum…"

"You're going to be late," she said.

He shook his head and dropped the spoon. That nagging thought had finally slipped into place, and he suddenly felt like the world had caved in. "Mum," he whispered, "when did you find out my secret?"

"What secret, honey?" She didn't even look at him, more interested in the coffee that streamed into a perfect porcelain cup.

He suddenly didn't want her to turn around, afraid of what her face would hold. This wasn't his mother - it just _couldn't _be. Still, now that he'd started the conversation, it had to keep going. He had to say it. "I'm half ghost." It felt like admitting to murder.

Her movements stilled, shoulders tensing and one hand gripping the edge of the bench. "You told me."

The sunlight bled out of the room, leaving the stark illumination of artificial halogen bulbs. He didn't like the way her words trembled and tried to keep his own voice steady. "I've never told anyone."

She turned around at that, with hands shaking so badly that coffee flowed over the edge of her mug. It splashed onto the floor but she didn't seem to notice. "Yes, you did." Her eyes were bright and she swatted at sudden tears with her free hand. "In the lab. What do you remember?"

"But…" He trailed off, scrunching his forehead as he tried to recall what had happened. Yesterday he'd finished school and flown home, and when he'd tried to phase through the wall…

They'd caught him.

The haze lifted, and Danny gasped as his memories rushed in. He pushed away from the table with a yell, his chair almost tipping back with the force. His brain filled with the echoes of sharp sobbing and a fire that licked across his insides. He tore his shirt over his head and clutched at his stomach and chest.

Smooth. Uninjured.

But that wasn't right.

They had strapped him down last night, sliced him open like… like…

Pain knifed through him and Danny shrieked as deep cuts carved the shape of a Y into his flesh. "_Mum!_" he screamed, and scrabbled for his discarded shirt, pressing it against the wound as blood and ectoplasm streamed freely onto the floor. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe, every pull of air was fire in his lungs, and hands were twisting something deep inside him and it felt so _wrong_ and he was dying all over again...

Maddie threw her mug down and coffee splattered across the floor.

"It's not real!" she shouted, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from the terrible wounds. "Danny, look at me, this isn't real!"

She began to sob, and released his arms to drag him into a hug. The movement tugged at the pain and it felt like his muscles were tearing away from his bones. Danny wailed and clutched her suit, wanting to stop moving, wanting it all to just go _away._ Her blue clothing was smeared with dark red and glowing green. They sagged to the floor, and he held tightly to her, shuddering as she shushed him and brushed her fingers through his hair. "It's not real," she whispered again, "you're okay now, it's okay…"

He shook his head, ready to protest that it certainly _felt_ real, but the pain was already fading like the dying light of day. "What's going on?" he rasped.

Her other hand stroked his back. "We're in a virtual world," she whispered. "A program we built to see inside a ghost's mind." He tried to pull back but she held him tighter. "You're hurt, and you were panicking too much, and we needed to keep you stable…"

The fabric of her suit was smooth against his cheek. It felt like silk. "Is that why things are weird?" he choked. Awful fluids still dripped from his cuts but he didn't feel it anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel anything unless he focused on it…

"How are they weird?"

"Things don't feel right." He scrunched her clothing in his fists. It was far too pliant to be HAZMAT. "My cornflakes didn't go soggy."

Everything seemed unbalanced. Why were they talking about cornflakes? Why was he bleeding on the floor?

...What was wrong?

"When we put you in the machine your brain built this world to try to heal," his mother said. "You faced trauma and it almost destroyed you."

Danny wondered what she was talking about. Clarity continued to slip away.

"You've been asleep for weeks now. I'm using the VR headset to try to talk to you," she told him.

It was so difficult to think. Sunlight poured through the window and it was so bright that it made his eyes water.

Danny scowled and drew away from her. "What's going on?" His thoughts were fuzzy, and he pulled his shirt back on. The liquid on the floor was brown. "Pass me a rag and I'll clean up." She was staring at him, and he frowned at the tears that dripped off her chin. "Mum, are you okay? It's just a cup of coffee. No use crying over it."

Her glove grazed his arm in a butterfly touch. "Sweetie, what do you think we're doing on the floor?"

He stared at his hands, unsure why there was so much coffee on them. It was a bit too much for a single dropped mug… "Cleaning up, I guess."

Her eyes were soft with sorrow, and her lip trembled in the way it always did when she tried not to cry. "I'll do it," she said. "You just finish getting ready for school."

Danny shrugged and stood up, rinsing his hands under the faucet. "I'm starving," he mumbled, and grabbed the box of cornflakes from the cupboard. "Do you think Lancer'll be mad if I'm late because I stopped to eat breakfast?"


	10. Favourite AU

He was glad that it was winter. It made his scarf an inconspicuous choice, even if the fabric around his neck simply made him feel more stifled. At least it hid the bandages and the horrific bruises that traced splotchy fingers out from beneath the wrapping.

Danny had hoped for a quiet day. A quiet week would definitely be too much to ask, but with a locked-down portal maybe there wouldn't be any trouble. Just for one day to recover.

The ghosts had _heard._ Small spectres that haunted street corners and alleyways flitted away as he passed by. When he got to school Sidney was waiting on the front steps, brows furrowed and glasses slipping down his nose as snow fell right through his insubstantial form. Class had already started, and as usual, Danny was late. He trudged down the footpath with his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the twinge in his neck with every step.

"Danny!" Sidney shouted, zipping down the stairs to hover in his path. "I-"

"You've heard," he rasped, "just like every other ghost in town."

Sidney held out his hand. "I'll carry your bag," he offered.

"'S fine."

Danny made to keep walking, and the weight lifted off his shoulders as Sidney phased his bag away from him. "Hey-"

"Let your friends help you."

"I'm fine," Danny grumbled.

He shrugged. "Your powers aren't back yet and you can't even turn your head. Skulker went too far the other night."

Danny scuffed his shoe against the step. "It's fine."

Sidney sighed, and the air around them swelled with the dusty sense of pages turning in a tired classroom. "Cut the gas, Danny, I'm tired of listening to this. He really hurt you this time!"

Danny began to climb the stairs, gripping firmly to the rail and taking them one at a time. "It's not like he's ever held back," he ground out. "I was just too slow. None of the other ghosts care about it anyway so I don't know why you're making a big deal. I'll heal."

"That's no excuse," Sidney countered. "All the ghosts don't feel right about this, word from the bird!"

They reached the top of the stairs and Sidney held the door open. "Anyway, if that tin can shows up here I'll give him a good ol' knuckle sandwich!"

Danny snorted and reached up to massage his throat. "Don't get yourself in trouble," he chided. "One of us being headless is bad enough."

Sidney hefted the bag and led the way down the hall. "D'you think it'll reattach?"

"I hope so." They passed his locker, covered in well-wishing cards and pictures of Phantom that hadn't been there a couple of days ago. Right in the middle of it all was a page torn from the front of the morning newspaper, with the headline _**Living Ghost Defies Death.**_ That was it. Secrets, lies, everything, it was all gone now. All it had taken was one hit, and everything changed.

Maybe Sidney was right. A few punches to the head would probably do Skulker some good.

.

.

.

**A/N ****I didn't even realise how many AUs have been created over the years and I didn't plan for Headless Danny to be the one I wrote for this oneshot but I was feeling a bit melancholy today so this is what came out.**

**I think there are so many fanon concepts that I forget are AUs so almost everything I write for this fandom has some sort of AU aspect.**  
**Though honestly when I was brainstorming for this oneshot my first thought was of that one Pokemon AU from years ago where Danny fused with a Froslass...**


	11. Redesign

"This is the stupidest class."

"Stop being such a deadweight."

"I'm _not._"

"While you two lovebirds have your couple's spat —"

"We're not lovebirds!"

"— _I've_ finished my beautiful art assignment!" Tucker flourished a piece of paper between them, and Danny couldn't make out much aside from smears of red and black.

Sam made a grab for the drawing, but Danny was closer, and he snatched it out of Tucker's hand. "I swear, if you've drawn something stupid…"

"Well, what did you think I'd do, since we're redesigning popular brand packaging?"

Danny stared at the paper in his hands.

"Do you like it?"

He shoved the drawing over to Sam and dropped his head into his hands with a groan. She snorted, and then Tucker had the paper back and flapped it in the air again. "Miss! I'm done!"

Danny moaned as her footsteps approached them, and pointedly ignored his friends as they told their art teacher that he had a headache when she asked why his paper was blank. There was the rustle of Tucker's artwork, and their teacher made a pleased sound. "This is a bit different. Why did you decide to change Phantom's costume?"

"I figured that it'd be more interesting than designing a new Coke can or something, and Phantom's _practically_ a brand, since he has a logo and everything."

Danny couldn't bring himself to look as their teacher continued to comment, but after a minute she finally left their table.

"Tuck," he whined. Beside him, Sam dissolved into a fit of giggles. Danny glared at her before frowning at his best mate. "It's not funny."

"It's great," Sam gasped. "I want to frame it!"

"You're both dead to me."

Tucker smirked, pulling a fresh piece of paper from his folder and twirling a pencil in his fingers. "Well, now that I've drawn you in Vlad's outfit, why don't I try drawing him in yours?"


	12. Cross Over

Smoke poured from shattered windows and lent a dreamy haze to the skyline, and alarms rolled through the town. The damage was too bad this time. Every single building breathed billowing black clouds, their walls creaking and glass splintering as fire peeled the houses apart. There was no saving the town this time. No miraculous event to restore lost homes.

The ghosts were everywhere. The sprung up like patches of weeds, translucent wispy forms like little stray fires. Everything they touched succumbed to green flames — the only way to stop them had been a ghost shield that encased the town. It formed a giant dome that stretched above the buildings like a green snow globe. Smoke passed through the membrane unhindered, but the ghosts themselves were trapped. They slammed against the barrier, unable to spread their destruction any further.

The survivors had evacuated. They stood in safety, watching as their town burned. A soot-stained boy pressed his hands against the forcefield that they had all passed through effortlessly, his eyes soft and his smile sad. "It's okay," he said.

One of the ghost hunters grasped his shoulders and tried to yank him closer, but his body squashed against the shield like it was made of glass.

The little flame ghosts began to land on her arms and she pulled back through the barrier, swatting at the scorch marks in her blue suit. "I'm not leaving you here!"

The ghosts seemed wary of touching him. They danced around his body like fireflies, their auras flickering like candles in a breeze. "Mum, it's okay. I can't go through."

"_I can't leave you here!"_

He sighed, and it sounded like dying leaves rustling in the wind. Weary. Tired. A vestige of happier times. "I don't think I can catch all of these ghosts with the portal broken. The thermos only fits so many."

"I'll make as many thermoses as you need!"

He shook his head. Sweat dripped down his cheeks. "I don't have that long. This ghostly fire's really bad for my ice core."

"No…"

His crystal blue eyes shimmered with tears. "You need to go."

"No, Danny, I'm not—"

"I don't want you to see me die."

"I won't leave you."

He smiled again, and glowing tears slid free. "I know, but I can't let you see this. I love you, Mum."

"Danny—"

He disappeared, flickering into nothing. Like blowing out a candle.

"Danny!" She stepped through the barrier, but the ghosts swarmed, and her nostrils filled with the awful stench of burning hair. "_Danny!_"

Someone wrenched her back to safety, and Maddie gasped as water poured over her face. "No, he's still in there, he's—"

Green light burst from the smoking remains of Fentonworks, spreading in a shockwave that splashed harmlessly against the shield like waves on the side of a boat. It dissipated into a shower of sparkling motes that floated like glitter in the snow globe town, and Maddie knew that there was nothing more that she could do.

She buried her face in Jack's shoulder and wept.


	13. Confined

He'd always hated reunions. Maybe because his first one involved fist fights and threats of murder, or maybe he just couldn't stand the constant sympathetic stares, but Danny tried not to think about it too much. He just didn't see the benefit of standing around and smiling pleasantly as people he barely knew droned on about their perfect lives.

So maybe he'd ended up a bit jaded, but it was a good excuse to avoid a pointless exercise.

A decade after finishing high school, the little Facebook invitation to his class reunion appeared. He rolled his eyes and didn't think about it again.

Twenty years since graduation, and this time there was a letter in addition to the Facebook post. It burned all too readily in flames that were neon green.

Three decades after he had farewelled his peers, Valerie Grey stood on his doorstep with a letter in her hand. Her frown was sullen and he let her in without argument.

She stepped over the threshold and unwound her scarf, hanging it with her coat on the hook by the door. She swept wind-ruffled curls back from her face and he couldn't help but think that time had treated her well.

"Want a coffee?" he asked.

She gave that little huff she always made when irritated. The entryway was cluttered with his shoes and an assortment of discarded jumpers and coats, and she nudged a fallen umbrella with her boot. "You'll make me one no matter what I say."

"And you'll say what you came here to say, no matter what," he teased.

Her glare was colder than he'd expected, and he held up his hands. She seemed unconvinced by his smile so he stopped trying to pretend that he was happy to see her, letting the expression drop and turning away. Their height difference was blatantly obvious in the cramped space, and he felt suffocated by the entire situation.

She followed him into the kitchen, and for a minute he didn't have to look at her as he put the kettle on and grabbed two mugs from the dishwasher.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to clean?"

He shrugged without bothering to look up as he spooned ground coffee from a jar. "You _saw_ my house growing up. Besides, I don't do the dishes until there's enough to fill the dishwasher." It wasn't even that bad — just the saucepan and his bowl from last night's dinner sitting on the edge of the sink.

Steam burst from the kettle's spout and it clicked off. He poured, stirred in milk and sugar, and passed her the mug without a word.

They sat across from each other and he wrapped both hands around his cup. For a moment the only sounds were a distant dog barking and the rush of a car in the street below. Valerie took a sip of her coffee, and he watched the steam coil into oblivion.

She'd put the envelope on the table while his back was turned. He scowled at it and took a swig from his mug. "I'm not going."

"You've never even tried," she prodded. "How long's it been since you saw Sam or Tucker?" An unvoiced _or me?_ hung between them and he shoved it away.

"I don't need some stupid reunion to see them."

"Then why don't they ever hear from you?"

His fingers tightened around his mug and the kitchen felt far too small for the two of them. For a moment he felt like he hated her but he let out a long breath through his nose and the sensation ebbed away.

"I'm busy," he finally offered.

"Saving the world, one burger-flipping shift at a time?" Her comment felt far more weighted than it should have, and Danny desperately wanted her to just grab his shoulders and start shaking.

The walls creaked and muffled voices soaked through the floorboards. It sounded like the people in the apartment downstairs were arguing again. Danny almost envied them.

Valerie placed her mug down with the delicate tap of ceramic against wood, and he wondered what the next step would be in this strange dance of theirs.

She huffed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Danny," she pleaded, planting her hands on the table and leaning forward.

He sipped his coffee again in an attempt to appear unruffled. "No."

She stood up and leaned over him like an old noir interrogator. "You can't stay away forever."

"That's the plan," he responded, trying for nonchalance with a wave of his hand.

Her hands curled into fists, knuckles paling with the pressure. "_What?_"

He knew that this was a bad idea — her lips pinched, brows drawing together like curtains closing. But now that he had given voice to the plan that he had never dared to acknowledge before, everything began to unravel. "Going back would just cause more issues," he explained, keeping his voice gentle as his heart ached. "It's better this way."

Her eyes went wide, mouth falling open as she searched his expression. He didn't elaborate, and after a moment her scowl was back. "Grow up," she snapped, slamming a fist down on the table.

The world went still.

Danny felt like something was pressed against his lungs. He curled small hands around his cup and the ceramic cracked in his grip. Coffee dripped through the gaps and slipped between his fingers. "That's the problem," he choked. His eyes pricked and he furiously blinked back the threat of tears. The envelope in the middle of the table spontaneously burst into green flame, its corners curling inward like the legs of a dying spider. "I can't."


End file.
